


Drown

by imaliveimpaige (TropicalUrie)



Category: Amazingphil - Fandom, Danisnotonfire - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-12
Updated: 2014-03-12
Packaged: 2018-01-15 11:48:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1303786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TropicalUrie/pseuds/imaliveimpaige
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone knows there's hell to pay when you break a promise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drown

**Author's Note:**

> This was named after and inspired by the song Drown by Front Porch Step. I highly recommend you listen to the song, not only because it ties the story together and such, but it's also a really great song. Also, this starts at Phil's POV and switches to Dan's, and continues in that pattern.

_I've been laying in my bed, wishing I had never woken. Begging God to rid my head of every word you've ever spoken._

I'd finally allowed myself to admit that I missed him. Here, in this endless sea of blankets and pillows and tear stained tissues, while tracing the cracks in the ceiling with my eyes, I'd finally let myself say it.  
"I miss you." The words were barely above a whisper, since they weren't meant for anyone but me to hear. "I miss you. I miss you, I miss you so much, and I wish ... I wish we were still ... you know. I miss you." I squeezed my eyes shut and took a deep, shuddering breath. I was on the verge of tears again, but I refused to let myself cry again. I was positive that if I cried anymore, I'd run dry.  
I lazily rolled to one side and picked my iPhone up from the nightstand. 5:40 pm. No texts, no calls, no notifications from instagram or tumblr or anything. I forced myself to remember that while I missed him, I didn't need or want someone like that in my life anymore. I didn't need someone who was going to get drunk and give me lung cancer and ridicule me and tear me down on a near-daily basis. I didn't deserve that. I told myself I didn't. The problem was, I didn't believe it.  
I threw my phone to the foot of the bed and flopped over onto my other side.

_And don't you, don't you dare say you ever loved me, or even tell me that you ever cared._

Silence. Nothing but pure silence, which was unusual for me. Actually, scratch that, if that damned clock didn't stop ticking, it was going out the window. But usually when I was home alone, there was music playing neighbor disturbingly loud, the TV on or something. I hadn't smoked or drank all day, which, again, was unsual for me, but could you blame me? This stuff is what wrecked my relationship.  
 _You fucking asshole, it's your fault. Don't blame the alchohol or the weed. You're the one who uses it._  
I knew that was true. Of course I knew that. But could I tell that to Phil? Of course I couldn't, and my self hatred had skyrocketed since he gave me that look and walked away.  
That look. Oh, god, that fucking look. Like he couldn't stand to be around me. Like I was insane. Like I was some kind of monster.  
 _You are a monster, Howell. If you weren't a monster, none of this would have happened._ "Shut up!" I screamed aloud. I pursed my lips as I realized that I'd just screamed at myself, and I was proving my own points. I fisted my hands through my hair and sighed.

_Boke my knuckles on the wall because I thought about the call where you said you'd always love me. Do you not tell the truth at all? ___

I closed my eyes and sighed. When I opened them again I reached out to ghost a finger across the shallow indent in the wall. That one would take some explaining. I ghosted the same finger along the bruised knuckled on my opposite hand. That would take some explaining as well. I rolled onto my back and closed my eyes again, hoping to doze off, but I just couldn't get Daniel off of my mind. This all felt like a bad dream, and while I wanted nothing more then to wake up and drive to his house to be held in his arms and make him swear he'd never leave me, I knew that this wasn't a dream. It had really happened, he had really been intoxicated, he had really called me every spirit-crushing name in the book, swung at me, and I'd really yelled that I hated him and ran out of the house. And we really did share one of the most meaningful (sober) phone calls I'd ever experienced.

* * * * *  
"No, you hang up first," Dan said in an over-exaggerated, high pictched voice. We both giggled and I laid back against my headboard.  
"I ... I love you, Dan," I said shyly after we stopped laughing.  
"I love you too, Phil," he responded happily. "A ... A lot. I love you a lot." I smiled and brought a hand to my face.  
"I love you a lot more," I retaliated. He chuckled and went on.  
"Really, I love you... I really do, and I just ... you make me so happy. You mean more than anything to me."  
"You really mean a ton to me, Dan," I replied, still grinning like a fool. "I love you. Forever!"  
"I'll always love, you, Phil. I promise."

_I gave the world everything I had. Johnny Cash said that love would burn, but I didn't think that it would hurt this bad._

I couldn't help but sneak glances at my dresser, whose top drawer contained my last package of cigarettes until I could get more.  
 _Are you fucking stupid? I think you are. This is what wrecked everything in the first place. Fucking cancer sticks, you don't need them._  
I couldn't help it, though. Cigarettes and drinking took my mind off of everything. Parents fighting, stress from school, stress from everything, really, it just calmed my nerves. Trust me, I never woke up one day and said to myself, "Today, I'm going to take a shot and smoke a cigarette because of peer pressure, and realize a few weeks later that I'm becoming addicted, attempt to drag my future boyfriend into this lifestyle, only to fuck it all up and almost hit him and have him run home."  
It started out as a coping mechanism, I swear.  
At this point, I was sick to my stomach from sitting here feeling sorry for myself, and before I knew it, I was checking to make sure I looked decent and tugging my jacket on.  
 _What are you doing? You fuckface, he's not going to take you back. Do you even remember what you did to him?_  
The pit in my stomach hardened, because, I did in fact remember what had happened.

"Dannnn! Dan, can I come in?" I heard Phil call from the front door. I jumped from my bed, stubbed my cigarette out on the ashtray on the nightstand, and stood up. My head spun, as did the room, as I answered,  
"Yeah! Yeah, I'm in the living room." That was a giant lie, but I stumbled blindly out of my room before he came into the living room.  
"Hi!" Phil greeted me cheerfully, leaning over to plant a kiss on my lips.  
"Hey, baby," I replied, putting all my effort into keeping my words clear and not slurred. When Phil turned to hang up his coat, I let myself fall onto the couch. He turned and smiled at me before walking over to join me. I, however, was not in a snuggling mood, and leaned over to get the TV remote as an excuse to lean away from his touch.  
"What do you want to watch?" I asked to buy myself time as the TV clicked and came to life. He shrugged.  
"Oh, anything's fine," he replied, leaning towards me again.  
"Oh, look, American Horror Story!" I exclaimed, probably sounding way more excited than I needed to. I reached past him to put the remote away, which forced him to lean back. "Let's watch." Watch. Ha. I tried to focus on the images in front of me, but they all spun, as did everything around them, and everything sounded like it was coming from the surface while I was underwater.  
We watched in silence for a bit, until what I think was a commercial break, and then Phil nudged closer to me. I jerked my arm away.  
"Dan..." Phil said, coming a little closer again. "Is something wrong?" I jearked my arm away again.  
"No, Phil, nothing is wrong," I said, and even I knew those words were slurred. I prayed he didn't notice and continued. "I'm fine, I swear." I looked over at him, and it felt like I was looking through a fuzzy, narrow tube, directly at the disbelieving look on his face.  
"Dan..." he repeated, leaning closer to me. He took a deep breath and continued, "You smell weird. Are you sure you're okay?"  
"Jesus Christ, Phil!" I snapped, causing him to jump a little. "I think I know whether I'm okay or n-not. Calm down." It was silent for a moment, then Phil's eyes widened.  
"Dan," he breathed. "You're drunk, aren't you?" I pretended to be horribly offended.  
"What? N... no, Phil," I replied. "I'm not. I'm not drunk." Phil stood from the couch.  
"You're lying to me," he said, sounding genuinely hurt. "You're lying to me, Dan. You said you would stay sober. You promised."  
"Well, I'm sorry, Phil!" I yelled, jumping up from my seat and stumbling a little. "It ... It just happened, okay? I'm sorry..." Phil shook his head.  
"No, Dan, you're not," he replied angrily. "If you were sorry, you wouldn't do it. And if you did it, you wouldn't lie about it!" Rage suddenly consumed me. I saw red and saw stars and I felt hot.  
"God, Phil, well if you actually trusted me!" I spat, leaning close to him. "Jesus. I said I was sorry! What more do you want from me?"  
"I want you to be honest with me!" Phil yelled back, his voice even. "God, Dan, I want to help you with your problems, but you won't let me! And then you lie about it?" My mouth dropped open.  
"Problems?" I asked in disbelief. "I don't have a problem!" I'm still not sure what happened next. All of a sudden, I was swinging blindly and quickly, and definitely with strength, and then Phil was gone.  
The only think I remembered now was that god awful look he gave me.

_Well if I ever cross your mind, make sure you write down all the times so I will know the moments I was eating you alive._

I finally brought myself to stand from the bed, and dragged my hands down my face. I sighed and retrieved my phone from the end of the bed and checked it again. No texts, calls, alerts, nothing. Again. I tossed the phone again and headed for the kitchen in hopes of comfort food. I had rummaged through all of the cupboards and was rummaging through the fridge when there was a knock on the door.  
"Coming!" I called through the house. I closed the fridge and walked through the dining room, to the living room, and pulled open the door. I almost slammed it again.  
"D-Dan?" I asked quietly. The head of brown hair in front of me grinned almost shyly and shrugged.  
"Hi... Hi, Phil..." he said, sounding a little nervous. "I was ... wondering, if... if I could come in? And we could ... talk?" My mouth was agape and I chewed on air for a moment, trying to find what I wanted to say.  
"No," I said finally. "N-no, Dan, you can't." The look on his face said that he wasn't expecting that reaction.  
"C'mon, Phil, at least let me in to get out of the rain?" He asked, his voice desperately hopeful. 

_And I'm so sick of all this rain, falling softly on the ground just enough to get my feet wet, but not enough to let me drown._

I had been so hopeful and happy on the way here, despite the increasing rain, but all of Phil's words so far registered in my head and I frowned.  
"Phil... please, please, I know I screwed up," I started. "Please, just give me a minute to explain..."  
"No, Dan." This time there was no hesitation, no stuttering. "No. I've given you explanation after explanation and minute after minute and chance after chance but what I wanted really wasn't much to ask for."  
"Well what did you want, Phil?" I asked. He looked me dead in the eyes and whispered,  
"For you to keep your promise." I stood for a second in a mix of guilt, shock, and nausea, because I knew exactly what promise he was talking about. He shook his head again. "I don't deserve that, Dan. I deserve someone who will actually talk to me and keep promises and treat me the way I deserve to be treated."  
"I can do that, Phil!" I knew how desperate I sounded, but I didn't care. I wanted Phil back more than anything. "I really can, I ... I promise. It was just a little slip up, plea-"  
"Little slip up?" Phil interrupted. "Little slip up? Dan, you almost hit me. You were so close to punching me in the face and seriously hurting me. What if the next time this happens, and I know there will be a next time, you actually end up hitting me? Dan, I can't take that chance. I've already taken it dozens of times."  
I really didn't know what to say at this point.  
"Phil ... there isn't anything I can say to change your mind?" I asked. Phil shook his head.  
"No. No, there isn't anything you can say," he replied. "That was your last chance. Thanks for everything nice you said, Dan, even if you didn't mean it. Goodbye." With that, he closed the door, leaving me alone in the rain.  
Standing out there, in complete shock, with the fabric of my jacket soaking and clinging to my skin, I'd never felt so alone.  
The only relief I had was the raindrops falling onto my face, hiding the tears that rolled silently down my cheeks.  
Goodbye, Phil.

_You are cancer, you are plague. You are regrets, you are disease. I wish you would go away._

As soon as I'd closed the door, I leaned my back against it and slid down to the floor. I hugged my knees to my chest, buried my face in them, and finally allowed myself the relief of crying. Still, it felt like a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders.  
Goodbye, Dan.


End file.
